


Last Syllable of Recorded Time

by childhoodlight



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 02:53:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7341676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/childhoodlight/pseuds/childhoodlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A moment to never be relived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Syllable of Recorded Time

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from. I just... love the idea of the Starks pre-show.

She watches the spoon full of porridge travel from the plate to his mouth. The sun flickers in his hair for a moment, and he looks up. Summer is falling upon them, airy and bright, still cool - for they live in the north - but gentler to weather-bitten skin. 

Six years later, and winter is no more.

"Penny for your thoughts, love," he says, and his low voice travels easily through the bright air.

"Winter's over," she answers.

"Yes," he says, and there's a humorous twinkle in his eyes, "I do recall  _someone_ saying she'd never make it through the winters up here."

She rolls her eyes as he continues, "always complaining about cold fingers and blue lips, warming her icy toes on my warm legs when trying to sleep..-"

"Okay, okay," she cuts him off, giving him half a smile

"I was wrong, you were right."

He smiles, satisfied.

"This once," she adds just to tease him.

He just smiles at her.

 

 

xxxx

 

 

_One, two, three._

She counts the seconds as she lies in bed.

She rolls over, closer, until she finds his warmth.

"Ned?" she says, voice small in this universe of a cocoon they create for themselves each night.

"Yes, Cat?" His voice is sleepy.

"Wake up."

"Why?"

"Because I need you to remember this," she says and puts her hand on his jaw.

He wakes a little more, "remember what?" His voice is low and warm and what she calls safety.

"This moment. This exact moment," she answers and finally their eyes lock.

She continues: "Promise me, Ned. Promise me you'll remember this moment. Right now. I don't know why it's important, but I can feel it. All these lost moments that just sail by never to be relived. This," she says and scoots closer, into his arms, "this is a moment you'll remember. And when we're old and grey, we'll think back on this and just remember what it felt like. Okay?"

She feels a little crazy. 

But he smiles, "okay, Cat."

_one, two three,_

the seconds tick by.

And when her lips touch his the moment is gone, stored away in their minds, drawn onto their weathered and loved skin like scars.


End file.
